Letters to a Wizard
by attheturnofthetide
Summary: Elizabeth's living in Rivendell (THANK YOU, ELROND!) and is writing to her wizard brother Nathan, who is a student at Hogwarts. She's telling him all about the happenings at Rivendell. And you all know life in Rivendell is never boring...
1. Chapter 1

On the front of the envelope:

**IMPORTANT**

**On order of Jaslyn, Lindir is to deliver this RIGHT NOW to her brother by Elf Post Premium on pain of death or so help me, I ****_WILL_**** tell the twins where you hide your candy stash! – Jaslyn**

**_Sheesh, someone's grumpy. – Elrohir_**

The letter:

**FROM THE DESK OF ELROND**

Dear Nathan:

The office/study of Elrond blew up so now I have to use his fancy desk paper.

I hate my life.

We're limited to one piece per person, and the only colour inks we have left are orange and mauve. It's all the twins' fault. They even exploded Erestor's supply of vintage parchment.

Apparently they were experimenting with bombs. Luckily the Last Homely House is more or less in average condition. The beds, however, have seen better days…

Right now everyone is out in the valley playing. Most of us are indulging ourselves in Trap the Twins (a vigorous exercise designed to humiliate Elladan and Elrohir; the advisors are finding it quite satisfying as revenge) while others are playing Tree Hopping (let's just say if you're afraid of heights, you mustn't even THINK about trying this).

Beside me, scribbling madly like the world's about to end, is Erestor. He's writing to his friend in Lothlorien to ask for his spare collection of vintage parchments (I KNOW!) He came later so we got the good ones. Now he's scribbling madly in _mauve_!

Glorfindel is trying to annoy everyone by hanging upside-down from the ceiling like some golden-haired bat. I'm not even considering asking him how he does it. I suppose when you're a Balrog-slayer and have got 2 lifetimes on you, you kind of pick up some things.

The lovely Undomiel can be found sulking in her room, as far as I know, she is "VERY VERY VERY MAD AT HER BROTHERS" (Oi, she said it!) Her new pink marble stationery set was destroyed and she is _so_ annoyed that she won't even look at Estel. Of course the poor boy is very upset. He thinks he did something wrong. Not _his_ fault Evenstar is in a snit.

I officially became Rivendell resident today (you wouldn't believe it, but Thranduil and Galadriel are a bit miffed at me not choosing to live in _their_ elven realms. I must say, though, that I cannot stand spiders and do not like living in tall trees). I have a little house that is thankfully unharmed by the twins' bombs. You wouldn't know it, but Silinde – the one in lavender – is quite good at designing houses. Mine is modest but quite impressive. Thanks, Silinde! I won't ever tease you about your grape-coloured tunics! (Well, I'll try NOT to…)

Also, there's a Yule feast you're invited to, followed by a nice evening ball. Can't say I'll be sitting out on this. An elf asked me already (not saying who, since _he_ says we're going "as friends" because he's dying of embarrassment that _no one else_ wanted to go with him!)

*cough* Glorfindel *cough*

Silly boys. I don't think I'm going with him anyways. Regardless of what he says, I think it would look a bit awkward, since he's… two thousand? Three thousand? years older than me (and he _still _thinks he doesn't look like it).

So yeah, there's a Yule ball that you should really come to. I heard Lindir makes great pudding.

Do bring some ink if you come, by the way. Heaven knows we're sick of mauve.

Write back,

Jaslyn

PS. Lindir's sending this to Elf Post. Hope it's not TOO wrinkled up. Silinde's Head Elf there, and even the Premium post isn't all too good.

PPS. If you write a long letter, don't send it by owl. And don't use the Hogwarts Instant Mailing System. They don't do inter-world transports.

**FROM THE DESK OF ELROND**


	2. Chapter 2

On the front of the envelope:

**Glorfindel, I don't CARE if you're "suffering" from stomach-ache,**

**BRING THIS TO THE ELF POST ****NOW****, or so help me, I'll send a letter of complaint to Mandos and SHIP YOU BACK TO VALINOR WHERE YOU BELONG!**

Ok, ok, calm down! – Glorfindel

On the back of the envelope:

***Express Elf Post, approved by Postmaster***

Are you sure she's ok? – Glorfindel

_She's always like this on Thursdays. It'll be all right. Besides, she wouldn't dream of returning you to Mandos. – Erestor_

Dear Nathan,

Thank Illuvatar for Erestor!

Lindir was washing the dishes (the elves who live in the Last Homely House take turns, you know, there's so many elves that he only has to wash them twice a year) and suddenly had the urge to help himself to a piece of raspberry tart. He slipped on the soapy water (Lindir spills soap _everywhere_ when washing dishes) and went flying out the window into the gardens like a rocket. Erestor, who was standing there chatting with the gardener, received a wet and flailing elf in the face.

Poor boy.

But anyways, he's recovered. Lindir is a gibbering mess now, though. I guess it's not every day you slam into Erestor.

But on to the Christmas feast! I'm sure you'll be amused to hear _all_ that has happened!

My friend was very disappointed when you did not appear (and I don't blame you, after that incident with the Amortentia) so she danced with Elladan instead. And of course Mr. Balrog refused to dance, so he ended up doing what he loves doing best: eating. He ate no less than FIVE apple pies, all of which were extra-large. I'm sure reincarnation gives one a fierce appetite, but _FIVE_!

He's complaining of somach-ache now, but serves him right.

I'm settling in quite nicely in my new house. Arwen embroidered my curtains for me, so they have flowers and curly writing on every inch of them. I've also decided to find a job, and I'm happy to say I've found a few possibilities.

Of course, I can't sing to save my life (and my harp skills are beyond mediocre), and tailoring is NOT an option, so I'm training as library assistant's assistant. The assistant is – you won't believe it – Silinde! and the librarian is Erestor. I've already learned cataloguing and categorizing, and Erestor very grudgingly let me read "The Lay of Glorfindel" (he says it'll make Mr. Glorfy all the more big-headed if he gets his hands on it) and he's darned right. Glorfindel's crowing right now at the line "hair the colour of golden glimmering sunshine".

Love, Elizabeth


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Nathan,

Thanks to Lindir's, er, incident yesterday (and the one last month – you know, when he washed the dishes with essential oils and our food smelled like perfume for weeks) Elrond has decided to buy a dishwasher.

According to the inter-world book of law, we are permitted to do this IF we don't broadcast or advertise the product. So as we keep this all hush-hush, Elrond has made another decision, Valar help us. He's ordered a washing machine as well.

The laundry elves now only need to hang the wet clothes on laundry lines, which gives them more free time, I think.

And to elongate this letter (I'm in a hurry, you see), I'd like to say I'm doing quite well at my job. Remember? I'm Silinde's assistant.

Since a not a whole lot of elves come to the library, Erestor, Silinde, and I have tons of time for reading. As you've probably already guessed, Silinde is still in with the whole lavender thing. Erestor hates it because he says the scent corrodes parchment.

I don't know what he's talking about either.

Love,

Elizabeth

_It can't possibly get any worse. –Elladan_

_What can't get any worse? – Elrohir_

_Her handwriting. –Elladan_

Hey! –Elizabeth


	4. Chapter 4

On the front of the envelope:

**Glorfindel, I don't CARE if you're "suffering" from stomach-ache,**

**BRING THIS TO THE ELF POST ****NOW****, or so help me, I'll send a letter of complaint to Mandos and SHIP YOU BACK TO VALINOR WHERE YOU BELONG!**

Ok, ok, calm down! – Glorfindel

On the back of the envelope:

***Express Elf Post, approved by Postmaster***

Are you sure she's ok? – Glorfindel

_She's always like this on Thursdays. It'll be all right. Besides, she wouldn't dream of returning you to Mandos. – Erestor_

Dear Nathan,

Thank Illuvatar for Erestor!

Lindir was washing the dishes (the elves who live in the Last Homely House take turns, you know, there's so many elves that he only has to wash them twice a year) and suddenly had the urge to help himself to a piece of raspberry tart. He slipped on the soapy water (Lindir spills soap _everywhere_ when washing dishes) and went flying out the window into the gardens like a rocket. Erestor, who was standing there chatting with the gardener, received a wet and flailing elf in the face.

Poor boy.

But anyways, he's recovered. Lindir is a gibbering mess now, though. I guess it's not every day you slam into Erestor.

But on to the Christmas feast! I'm sure you'll be amused to hear _all_ that has happened!

My friend was very disappointed when you did not appear (and I don't blame you, after that incident with the Amortentia) so she danced with Elladan instead. And of course Mr. Balrog refused to dance, so he ended up doing what he loves doing best: eating. He ate no less than FIVE apple pies, all of which were extra-large. I'm sure reincarnation gives one a fierce appetite, but _FIVE_!

He's complaining of somach-ache now, but serves him right.

I'm settling in quite nicely in my new house. Arwen embroidered my curtains for me, so they have flowers and curly writing on every inch of them. I've also decided to find a job, and I'm happy to say I've found a few possibilities.

Of course, I can't sing to save my life (and my harp skills are beyond mediocre), and tailoring is NOT an option, so I'm training as library assistant's assistant. The assistant is – you won't believe it – Silinde! and the librarian is Erestor. I've already learned cataloguing and categorizing, and Erestor very grudgingly let me read "The Lay of Glorfindel" (he says it'll make Mr. Glorfy all the more big-headed if he gets his hands on it) and he's darned right. Glorfindel's crowing right now at the line "hair the colour of golden glimmering sunshine".

Love, Elizabeth


End file.
